Strawberry Parfait
by The Many Faces of Doris
Summary: GrimmIchi.AU Crack!fic. After "the incident", Grimmjow is forced to work at Urahara's Bakery, Strawberry Parfait, where he meets closet sugar addict, Ichigo Kurosaki.
1. In Which Grimmjow is Angry

**Title: **Strawberry Parfait

**Authors:** dolioslethe and uskohakuchan (The Many Faces of Doris)

**Summary: **After "the incident", Grimmjow is forced to work at Urahara's Bakery, Strawberry Parfait, where he meets closet sugar addict, Ichigo Kurosaki.

**Warnings: **Crack! fic. Mild bad language. Possible offensive content. Maybe even lemons. Oh, yes, this is yaoi. You no like, you no read.

**Author's Note: **This is dolioslethe and uskohakuchan's second collaboration fic (first for bleach). We are quite proud of this story and plan to make as many episodes as possible. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Grimmjow stared at the apron in horror and anger. If the sandal hat freak actually thought he would wear that…

He crushed the apron in his hand and proceeded to march to the sandal hat freak's office. March being the appropriate term as his feet thudded against the floor in a steady, yet clearly angry, rhythm.

When he reached the door, he ripped it open and opened his mouth to voice his anger…

…but let it hang open stupidly instead as he took in the sight before him.

In a green, heart-shaped chair sat Urahara Kisuke clad only in his hakama and a pink apron with white frills almost identical to the one crushed in Grimmjow's own hand.

His signature hat lay on a cupcake themed ironing board by the chair.

"Ah, Grimm-kun, I see you've received your uniform," Kisuke said, "And my, my, it seems that it's been wrinkled. Thank _goodness_ I had my ironing board out, right Grimm-kun?"

Urahara had placed his hat on his head and turned to stare at Grimmjow from underneath it, his unspoken words hanging in the air:

"**Argue and Die."**

Grimmjow was usually the type to argue with any and everybody, especially when admitting defeat was involved, but for once in his life he was discreet. Perhaps it was that sandal-hat freak staring at him as if even thinking or speaking negatively about the apron would result in an excruciatingly painful death. In any case, he conceded that he might have lost this battle.

And with not even an ounce of blood spilled.

He hated losing a battle without bloodshed more than he hated losing a battle. What was the point in fighting if no blood was going to be spilled?

He was too busy immersing himself in his dark thoughts about defeat and blood to notice that Urahara had removed the apron from his grasp and ironed it.

It took being smacked in the face with Urahara's fan to break him from his trance.

"Stop glaring so much. You'll ruin Strawberry Parfait's cute image. And nothing is _more_ important than upholding our image. Now go get changed, Grimm-kun. Your shift starts in 20 minutes and you still have to be briefed on the art of waiting," Urahara stated, pushing Grimmjow out of his office. The door shut behind him and he could hear the click of a lock.

Cursing, Grimmjow went to change. As he pulled on the white dress shirt, he considered leaving. He couldn't stand this place and its stupid sandal-hat owner. It took all his willpower not to tear the shop to pieces. It was especially difficult whenever he looked at the sickeningly cute cupcake-themed wallpaper.

But he shook these thoughts away upon remembering why he had agreed to this arrangement in the first place. He shivered as he recalled "the incident". He would do anything to make up for that, even if it meant working in the stupid pastry shop for the next 3 months.

He jumped back as the door slammed open. "What the-"

"I'm here to give you your orders so you'd better listen up. I'm only saying this once," said a pink-haired girl in glasses as she entered the room.

"One, In order to wait properly you must be polite, graceful, and sweet at all times. And I know that's hard for you, being of the male gender and all, but do try with all your might."

"Two," the girl continued in a sweet tone, grabbing Grimmjow around the collar, "all orders are to be placed on the giant cupcake by the door for the busboy to pick-up. Use the pink pins for cakes, cupcakes, and cookies and the yellow ones for everything else.

"And lastly, three," she said, lowering her voice and raising her head to stand eye to eye with Grimmjow, "all solo female customers are to be left to me. _**Is that clear**_?"

Grimmjow raised his hand to hit the crazy girl but stopped when he noticed the look in her eyes. He recognized that look. He had only seen it not 10 minutes ago on the sandal-hat freak's face. He nodded at her and she released him, clearly satisfied.

"Your shift begins in 5 minutes. Oh," she added with a smile, her voice taking on the same sweet tone she had earlier, "Do something with your face, please. We don't want your frown scaring off any beautiful girls. And Hime-chan is especially timid…"

The door swung shut as she exited, closing just in time to collide with Grimmjow's fist. He pounded the door in anger until the blood began to seep onto the apron.

"Ah, shit!" he cursed, walking to the bathroom to wash off the blood. Even in here the walls were decorated with the damned cupcake-themed wallpaper. _What kind of fruits frequented this place?_ Realizing the time, he hastily wrapped toilet paper around his torn knuckles and went to the shop.

When he entered, he was relieved to find it empty. He was pretty damn sure that he wouldn't be able to handle some little old lady with a craving for sweets and a hearing problem without causing some serious damage. And he didn't need _him_ here. Not after "the incident".

He leaned against the counter and ran his fingers through his teal hair. It was boring doing work. He hated boredom.

He closed his eyes, preparing for a cat nap, when a voice announced, "Happy, happy love. Happy, happy love."

He opened his eyes and then closed them again, not believing what he was seeing. _Please not another one…_

'What in the hell was a man doing wearing a maid's outfit?'

**Next Episode: In Which a Sugar Addict is Revealed**

**Reviews? Comments? Favs? Alerts?**


	2. In Which A Sugar Addict Appears

**Title: **Strawberry Parfait

**Authors:** The Many Faces of Doris

**Summary: **After "the incident", Grimmjow is forced to work at Urahara's Bakery, Strawberry Parfait, where he meets closet sugar addict, Ichigo Kurosaki.

**Warnings: **Crack! fic. Mild bad language. Possible offensive content. Maybe even lemons. Oh, yes, this is yaoi. You no like, you no read.

**Note: **This will not be updated regularly as the writers are lazy. We have everything planned out (to a certain extent) but we are born slackers, so...tough luck, y'all.

* * *

Ichigo debated whether or not to enter… for all of two seconds.

There really wasn't much debating to be done when you'd already dressed up like a French maid.

He breathed deeply and pushed open the door, flinching at the sound of the man announcing, "happy, happy love."

The first thing he noticed was the blue hair of the waiter. He then noticed the menacing look the waiter was directing at him.

Ichigo began to regret not debating longer.

"Why the hell are you wearing a dress?" the waiter demanded, stepping forward.

Ichigo cursed. This was all Ishida's fault, he decided. If the other teenager hadn't been watching Ichigo so closely he wouldn't have to traipse all over Karakura in a dress just to sate his lust for sugar. Stupid rule abiding, Uryuu; He would turn Ichigo in without a second thought if he found out. Actually, thinking about it again, it really wasn't Ishida's fault at all. It was Isshin's.

"Are you deaf, freak? Why are you _wearing_ a dress?"

Ichigo looked over the man again. He half expected the waiter to put his hands on his hips and tut, but rationalized that someone this angry, no matter the fact that they were wearing a frilly pink apron, probably would be more likely to punch someone in the face than tut.

"I needed a disguise," he answered. What was the point in lying? He was already making a complete fool of himself as it was; lying would probably only make things worse.

The waiter seemed taken aback and Ichigo took the moment to look at the menu. He hadn't even gotten through the list of cakes when he began salivating. He felt like a dog…in a maid's dress.

Stupid Isshin, he thought, returning to his earlier thread. There was something seriously wrong with that man. What sane person would ban their son from having sweets just because it wasn't "manly" enough?

"Aww, Grimmjow, I see you're serving your very first customer," said a man in a, if possible, frillier apron than Ichigo's dress. The man turned to Ichigo and continued, "And what a _darling_ dress? Did you happen to buy it from Quincy Designs. That's where Strawberry Parfait got their uniforms from, right Grimm-kun?"

Grimmjow took a step away from the man and clenched his hands at his sides. "I'm not doing this, Urahara."

The blond raised an eyebrow, his hat moving with it. "Not doing what, Grimm-kun?"

"I'm not serving freaks who like to wear dresses!"

"Who said I like to wear dresses? Who said this was even by choice?" Ichigo glared at Grimmjow, his own hands mimicking Grimmjow's and tightening at his sides.

"Oh, so this isn't for fun? Then what's it for, eh?" Grimmjow stepped towards Ichigo, a smile forming on his face. It unnerved Ichigo and he began to feel the heat grow in his cheeks. Why, oh why, had he not thought this through?

"Like I said before, it's a disguise…" Ichigo realized just how stupid he sounded. His cheeks, at this point were burning, and that unnerving smile became wider, almost a sneer at this point.

Grimmjow snorted. "I'm not serving him," he said to Urahara…who had disappeared.

"You're every fangirl's dream," Urahara commented from his perch beside Ichigo.

"Wha-" Ichigo began. He'd caught sight of the paper in Urahara's hand and he felt his eyes widen. That wasn't what he thought it was, was it…

"You two will be perfect models for my new campaign. We need more fangirls here; not many are attracted to bakeries due to the lack of potential seme-uke pairings. What better way to attract them than with the promise of yaoi?"

Unfortunately for Ichigo, it was.

**Next Episode: In Which A Tentative Alliance is Formed**


	3. In Which A Tentative Alliance Is Formed

**Title: **Strawberry Parfait

**Authors:** The Many Faces of Doris

**Summary: **After "the incident", Grimmjow is forced to work at Urahara's Bakery, Strawberry Parfait, where he meets closet sugar addict, Ichigo Kurosaki.

**Warnings: **Crack! fic. Mild bad language. Possible offensive content. Maybe even lemons. Oh, yes, this is yaoi. You no like, you no read.

**Note: **Suprised to see another chapter so soon? Yeah, so are we. Anyways, the last half of this chapter is part of a special (kind of like the Bleach "Golden" at the end of the anime that deals with all the characters we forget about/aren't in the main story). Camilia is ours. So is Doris.

**Disclaimers:** DFWM Seme, Badass Uke, and everything in between are from semeuke . com

**E_di_t: **More stuffs added. Yoruiichi's bit, to be exact. Poor Ichigo...

* * *

"You're out of your fucking mind," was Grimmjow's first reaction when he finally processed what the shopkeeper had said.

Nothing was worth this. Not even keeping "him" happy. But then again…

"Fuck!"

Ichigo fell into Grimmjow as Urahara pushed him and simultaneously whipped out a Kodak Camera from within his haori. The camera's flash blinded the two men, causing them to tumble to the floor.

"That's it Grimm-kun. Act like the seme you know you are and top that uke," Urahara cooed, taking pictures in rapid succession.

After a minute of confused rolling on the floor, Grimmjow and Ichigo managed to separate. Red in the face, Ichigo adjusted himself so that he wouldn't get arrested for indecent exposure. He'd never been so embarrassed in his life. And just fifteen minutes ago, he was relieved to have finally reached this place. This had to be the worst moment of his life.

"Oh-my-god, it's a cross-dressing uke!"

He took that back. _This_ had to be the worst moment in his life. It was okay if a guy saw him in this position. He could just use the excuse of being really wasted; sure, they'd make fun of him for the rest of his life but that was okay.

It was never okay if a girl saw this.

They'd never take being drunk as an excuse. They'd see this as his suppressed feelings finally showing themselves and never let him up until he "accepted" himself. Which would never happen because he, he, Ichigo Kurosaki, was not gay. In any which way or form. There was just no chance in hell that he could possibly be. Why people couldn't see that was beyond him…

"You stupid fucking bitch!"

Grimmjow advanced on Urahara and Ichigo followed suit. Grimmjow turned to look at the red-head in the dress. He nodded at him as if to say "you thinking what I'm thinking" and the boy seemed to understand, thus, agreeing to a temporary alliance.

In one swift movement that could've come straight out of a Shonen Jump, they both attacked. Grimmjow's wound reopened as he pummeled Urahara into the ground. Ichigo held Urahara in place until Grimmjow finally tired. Ichigo then dropped Urahara's assaulted form to floor and proceeded to kick him until he was satisfied.

"You didn't have to hit me so hard," Urahara complained, his broken nose muffling his voice.

Both Grimmjow and Ichigo ignored him. Grimmjow, because he just didn't give a shit anymore, and Ichigo, because he'd become preoccupied with reading the menu.

"You brought it upon yourself Kisuke," the girl who had interrupted earlier said as she pulled Urahara off the floor. "What did I tell you about messing with Don't Fuck with Me Seme's and their Badass Uke's, hmm? Geez, some people never learn."

"But Yoruiichi-san, you know I can't resist. I am, after all, a fangirl at heart," Urahara replied once again taking up his position behind his fan.

Yoruiichi ignored him and made her way over to Ichigo, "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I'm usually able to guess what type of uke or seme a guy is fairly easily and accurately. I guess your dress threw me off. Did your seme put you up to it?"

Dear God, Ichigo had entered crazy land. He _**was**_ not gay. He was straight, straight, straight. And even if he was gay (which was not possible because he was not gay), he would not be the uke. He'd be the seme, dammit. He would not be topped.

Ichigo shook his head. He could not believe he was actually arguing this scenario in his head. Why had he not just stayed home like a good "manly" boy?

Why did he just contradict himself in the same freaking sentence?

"What do you want, kid?"

Grimmjow could not believe he hadn't walked out yet. He must've lost his mind in the short time he'd been in the bakery because the sane, er, saner Grimmjow wouldn't have just beat the shopkeeper, he'd have killed him and destroyed the shop just for the heck of it. And he **would not** have asked the cross-dressing boy what he wanted. Yes, Grimmjow had definitely gone batshit crazy.

"My name **is not** kid, it's Ichigo. And I'd like the strawberry cake."

Grimmjow raised one eyebrow and watched as the kid rolled his eyes and growled. "What? I can't like strawberries?"

Grimmjow smirked and totally ignoring the guidelines he'd been given earlier, shouted the kid's order across the shop.

"Oi, cook, I need one strawberry cake!"

Meanwhile, Yoruiichi had dragged Ichigo to a nearby table and was currently grilling him about his sexual activities as a badass uke.

"Is he good?" Yoruiichi asked an intense look on her face.

"What? I don't even know him! And I'm not gay!" Ichigo exclaimed.

"Oh, so you're _that_ kind of person." Yoruiichi said, content in the fact that she finally understood.

"What do you mean?" Ichigo said warily.

"You don't care if shit happens as long as he's your seme. Have you fucked with him yet? Or better yet, have you fucked his brains out? But you're clearly the uke type, so you probably just let him fuck you."

Ichigo was permanently scarred by her rant, but that last comment of hers demanded a reply. "What do you mean I'm clearly an uke! If anything I would be a seme!"

"So you know the terms! Why deny it when it is so obvious?" Yoruiichi crooned, looking like the cat that caught the canary. "Don't worry! I support the way you feel, even if I can't understand it. I'm an opportunist seme, you know. I took the quiz."

Ichigo looked at her incredulously. She obviously was suffering from some mental disorder.

"Here's your cake, kid," Grimmjow interrupted before Ichigo could respond. As soon as the cake was placed before him, Ichigo forgot all that he was about to say and dove in to the cake. He even ignored the fact that Grimmjow had bled on it as he plowed through the sweet.

Grimmjow watched in interest as the kid demolished the cake little by little. He found himself smiling as he watched the kid eat the bit he'd bled on and wondered if he had a blood fetish. That would explain why he was enjoying this so much. Either that or…no, NO, he had a blood fetish. That was it. Blood. Not anything else.

He turned away from the boy and stomped to the counter where he grabbed the boy that had brought out the cake. "Give me the bill."

The boy's face was priceless and Grimmjow smiled, hoping he'd wet his pants in fear. After a day like this, it made him feel good to frighten the shit out of losers.

The boy handed him the bill, still shaking. Grimmjow snatched it out of his hand and gave him one last sneer. The boy turned and fled and he laughed heartily.

Feeling much better, Grimmjow made his way back over to Ichigo's table.

"Pay me, kid," he ordered.

Ichigo glared up at him, "Screw you."

What the fuck? Did the kid actually… Grimmjow laughed to himself. So maybe the boy wasn't the pansy cross-dressing bitch he'd originally thought he was. Though, the dress did still leave some doubts in his mind.

"You wish. Sorry kid, I only fuck girls. And wearing a dress does not make you one."

He fell back as the kid punched him. "For the last time, it was a goddamn disguise. Take your freaking money. Why did I even come here? You're all freaking loons."

Ichigo headed towards the door, looking for all the world like a creepily buff and angry French maid. Grimmjow's grabbing his arm stopped him from exiting and he spun around, prepared to hit him again.

"Damn, I hate being fucking polite. Here's your fucking change and we hope to see you again," Grimmjow spat out. He couldn't afford to lose this job. "He" would kill him. Or worse… Even if it meant he had to deal with this kid again…though…

Ichigo took the change wordlessly and left the shop.

Perhaps he'd gone crazy during his stint in the shop, but he was _actually_ considering coming back. Sure, he'd have to see the Grimmjow, and Urahara, and Yoruiichi mistakenly assuming he was gay again…but that cake had been delicious. A bit coppery, but that had added to the flavor. Made the cake sweeter.

And the not-gay Ichigo Kurosaki did love sweets.

**Next Episode: In Which an Uncle Takes His Niece Out to Lunch**

* * *

**Special # 1: Camilia is a Dynamite Hider**

Camilia was a **dynamite** hider. Or so she had been told. She didn't necessarily hide from people; she just always managed to sit in the most inconspicuous spots, or always stand in the shadows where only people with night vision would be able to see her.

Camilia was also addicted to sugar.

So it just so happened that Camilia, dynamite hider and sugar addicted little old lady, happened to be at Strawberry Parfait when they employed a new waiter.

And she was also there when a young red-headed boy in a dress entered.

She watched the scene unfold with avid interest. It was like her dreams had been brought to life. She pinched herself twice to make sure she was truly awake. Eating her lemon cookies and strawberry pastry, she watched.

And decided.

After the red-headed boy, Ichigo had left the shop and the new employee, Grimmjow, had been sent into the back she picked up her empty dishes and cleared out. She had things to do.

Very important things.

For Camilia, in addition to being a dynamite hider and sugar addict, was a yaoi fangirl. And had been all her life. And as all yaoi fangirls know, when a pairing was so plainly put before them, it was time to make a fan club.

And all fan clubs needed mascots, right?

"I'll take the orange one and do you happen to have a blue one by any chance?"

The clerk stared at Camilia incredulously and she seemed not to notice.

"Oh, you don't, how disappointing."

Then a thought occurred to her. She smiled.

"I'll take the white one, too," she said. Oh, he'd be perfect.

"You sure, miss? He's pretty violent." It clawed at its cage as if to emphasize the clerk's words.

Yes, very perfect.

"I'm quite sure."

The next place she went was a hair store. She had the clerk there mix and mix until he'd made the perfect shade.

"Is this dye non-toxic? Can you have it on your skin for a while without it harming you, I mean?" she asked.

"Of course, m'am. We wouldn't sell any other kind," the store clerk replied.

She nodded at him. She loved when things worked out.

Bringing her purchases home, she proceeded to commence the induction of her new club mascots.

"_Meow_!"

"Oh don't complain. It's not a bath," she said, hushing the formerly white cat. It was now a brilliant shade of blue, a shade almost identical to Grimmjow's hair.

"Grimmjow, meet Ichigo. Ichigo, meet Grimmjow."

The cats eyed each other. Then Grimmjow batted Ichigo and Ichigo clawed him back. After a few minutes of cat fighting, they pulled apart and eyed each other again.

"_Meow_," Ichigo said as he curled up under Grimmjow.

"And the Grimmichi club has been opened!"

Camilia smiled happily. Doris was going to love this.


	4. In Which An Uncle Takes His Niece Out

**Title: **Strawberry Parfait

**Authors:** dolioslethe and uskohakuchan (The Many Faces of Doris)

**Summary: **After "the incident", Grimmjow is forced to work at Urahara's Bakery, Strawberry Parfait, where he meets closet sugar addict, Ichigo Kurosaki.

**Warnings: **Crack! fic. Mild bad language. Possible offensive content. Maybe even lemons. Oh, yes, this is yaoi. You no like, you no read.

**Author's Note: **No Grimmichi in this episode (tear tear) but there will be _**plenty**_ in the next one. This grimmichi-less episode was needed to get to the next one, so we hope it will suffice until the next one is written.

* * *

Byakuya was… uncomfortable, to say the least. Rukia and he were currently sitting at a small table, in a rather unrefined bakery. He would've preferred to stay home and just had Rukia's birthday sweets catered to him, but Renji, being the rude and insubordinate boy that he was, told him that doing that would be undignified.

As if Byakuya needed to be told by someone like _him_ what was dignified and what wasn't. And if that wasn't bad enough, Ukitake and Kyouraku had _**agreed**_ with Renji. Kyouraku had even gone on to say that not going to the bakery would be "sinful" as it was Rukia's birthday and since all girls loved sweets and cute things, what better way to treat her than to take her to the "absurdly cute sweet-shop".

Byakuya had really had no choice in the matter.

He shifted his gaze from the cupcake-patterned walls, back to the menu. He wished Rukia would order soon; he didn't know how long he could take in this shop. Ignoring the fact that it was unclean, he could almost tolerate it, but the feeling that he was being watched would not leave him, and thus, he suffered.

Not to say that Byakuya was afraid of being watched, or paranoid for that matter.

No, not at all. It was just that he got the feeling that the look he was being sent, from which direction it was impossible to ascertain, was more than just curious. It felt all-consuming, and maybe even a bit hostile.

Byakuya was afraid.

He shifted his gaze towards the counter, trying to find the source of the look. Rukia had better order soon…

Rukia wasn't faring much better. She'd been excited when she heard "Nii-sama" would be taking her to ultra cute bakery that she passed everyday on the way home from school and had longed to go into since the first day she saw it. But then, as she realized what that news meant, she blanched. She'd be having a meal with "Nii-sama". _In Public._ They barely said two words to each other in a private meal at home, and she shuddered, imagining what a public meal would be like. And she was sad to say that she'd been right in her imaginings. Byakuya had looked at her twice the entire time and, both times, she'd found herself reddening in the face while trying to look as dignified as possible. In her **expert** opinion, it wasn't a good combination.

She glanced at Byakuya under the guise of looking at her menu and watched as he glanced back and forth between his menu and the shop. She frowned unhappily. "Nii-sama" _obviously_ didn't want to be here. He probably expected an "unsavory lowlife" to jump out at them at any moment. She might as well tell him what she wanted before he freaked out (in a dignified manner, _of course_) and demanded they leave.

In the next five minutes that passed, Rukia opened her mouth twice to tell him what she wanted and closed it twice, as she realized that he might not approve of her choice in sweets.

She looked through the menu once again, trying to figure out what sweet he _would _approve of.

She really wanted a banana split. Covered in chocolate syrup. And strawberries.

But that would be messy, and in "Nii-sama's" opinion, undignified. So, she continued to look through the menu.

At last, Rukia realized that there was nothing else she wanted. She stared at the wall, as the uncomfortable silence enveloped them more and more.

Today was supposed to be her birthday, and yet she was stuck in a bakery with Nii-sama.

"Happy, happy love. Happy, happy love," the man's voice cheered, announcing the arrival of another customer.

Rukia turned to look. And stared. Blinked. And stared again.

"Chappy?"

--

**Next Episode: In Which Chappy Is Chappy (AKA "In Which Your Arm Goes Break")**


End file.
